


another drink just to pass the time, 'cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine

by wearealltalesintheend



Series: Ravi Chakrabarti Appreciation Week 2017 [3]
Category: iZombie (Comics), iZombie (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, M/M, Sort Of, the standard coffee shop AU every fandom needs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12176439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearealltalesintheend/pseuds/wearealltalesintheend
Summary: "The problem with allowing life to take you wherever it wants you to go, Ravi finds, is that sometimes it leads you to a fork in the road.The whole two roads diverging in a yellow wood spiel, the complete package signed by Robert Frost and all, and then it says choose.Except you're blindfolded. And it spun you around in circles first. And you don't know you're in a yellow wood somewhere.In fact, you don't even know how you got there.Anyway, it says choose and you choose and it's sealing your fate, it's a turning point. It's a bloody milestone.But it doesn't tell you that, no.It says choose and you choose, and then you keep drinking your latte."or, alternatively, Ravi owns a Coffee Shop, Liv is finding herself in life, Blaine may or may not be selling drugs in a bakery, and coffees are served.





	another drink just to pass the time, 'cause I'm gonna be free and I'm gonna be fine

**Author's Note:**

> Last day of Ravi Chakrabarti Appreciation Week!
> 
> Today is Free Day, so guess what y'all? More Coffee Shop AU.
> 
> Also, let the record show that I have no idea how coffee shop works. Or Seattle.

The problem with allowing life to take you wherever it wants you to go, Ravi finds, is that sometimes it leads you to a fork in the road. 

 

The whole  _ two roads diverging in a yellow wood  _ spiel, the complete package signed by  _ Robert Frost  _ and all, and then it says  _ choose.  _

 

Except you're blindfolded. And it spun you around in circles first. And you don't know you're in a yellow wood somewhere. 

 

In fact, you don't even know how you got there. 

 

Anyway, it says  _ choose  _ and you choose and it's sealing your fate, it's a turning point. It's a bloody milestone. 

 

But it doesn't tell you that, no.

 

It says  _ choose  _ and you choose, and then you keep drinking your latte. 

 

.

.

.

 

Meeting Liv, that's one of those milestones he doesn't recognize until much later.

 

It's pretty anti-climatic, the whole thing.

 

There's no roll of drums or foul weather or prophetic dream. 

 

There's only the bell chiming above the door and the  _ clink _ of her boots, and then she's coming up to him at the counter, smiling up, saying  _ I hear you need a barista?  _ And it falls somewhere between a question and a statement, her voice losing its confidence as the sentence ends.

 

Ravi eyes her, this girl with white blond hair and warm smiles and loud boots; she looks fancy, she looks like a Starbucks' regular, she looks like she definitely doesn't need this job. 

 

He can't begin to fathom why in the world would this girl want to work at his small coffee shop and he's about to ask her exactly that, when he looks again, pauses.

 

There's something about her, though. Maybe it's the way she keeps shifting her weight from one foot to the other or the jittery way her fingers drum a beat against the counter, or maybe it's something in her eyes or the hunch of her shoulders, no matter. There's something about Olivia Moore that makes him think of himself, lost and freshly fired from the CDC, with nowhere to go and no one willing to employ him.

 

All in all, Ravi decides that maybe he doesn't need to understand her reasons.

 

So he smiles kindly back at her, says,  _ so it seems, do you know how to make coffee? _

 

.

.

.

 

As it turns out,  _ no,  _ Olivia Moore,  _ cannot  _ make coffee.

 

It's almost supernatural. 

 

All she has to do is press buttons and pull levers, she doesn't need to  _ touch  _ the beans, the machine is supposed to do all the hard work, and yet, every time she tries anything caffeinated, the machine rebels and vomits a food poisoning case waiting to happen.

 

But that's only for caffeinated beverages.

 

Lattes. And hot chocolate. And tea. And decaf. And sometimes cappuccinos, but that's kinda pushing it a bit and reserved only for desperate times. She has no problem with those. They are all quite good actually.

 

So really, it's almost supernatural.

 

But despite the whole Coffee Paradox, Ravi finds he rather enjoys her company and can't bring himself to regret hiring the girl.

 

Olivia Moore is funny and pretty and driven, and most importantly, she has been through Med School just like him, only to find herself presently working nowhere near a hospital.

 

It's good to find a kindred soul.

 

After he tells her exactly that, because it appears he has no brain to mouth filter these days, she smiles, and for the first time it looks almost sincere, so Ravi counts it as a win.

 

She doesn't talk much about her life, or why she is where she is now, but by the sad look on her eyes and the non descript answers she gives him, Ravi figures whatever happened, she hasn't left in good terms.

 

But then again, he gets it. His parents aren't very happy about this new turn of events on his life either. 

 

Come to think of it, he sees a lot of himself on the girl, and well, is that so bad of him to want to offer her the help he wishes he had been given?

 

.

.

.

 

It's two months after Liv starts working there that things start to change.

 

They're about to close on a Wednesday night, Ravi is dividing the leftover pastries in two tupperwares for them to take home and Liv is cleaning the tables with a bright colored rag, when the bell chimes and they both turn to look at the newcomer in sync.

 

In retrospect, he kind of sees how that could be viewed as a little creepy.

 

Anyway.

 

Ravi vaguely recognizes him as the detective who comes in every once in awhile, orders an espresso and hurries away, but he can't recall his name. He is about to tell him they're closing for the day, when he takes a proper look at the man.

 

It's raining outside and his leather jacket is dripping a growing puddle on the wooden floor, and normally Ravi would mind, but there's a tiredness in the line of his shoulders and the bags under his eyes, so he says nothing.

 

The detective seems to catch on, look at his surroundings, take in the upturned chairs and the obnoxious rag Liv is toying with. He scratches the back of his head, asks  _ am I too late? _

 

Ravi wants to say  _ yes, actually, you are _ , but Liv is looking at him with raised eyebrows that say  _ really?  _ very judgily, and the man does look like he  _ really  _ needs a coffee, so he casts one last wistful glance at the freshly cleaned machine before saying  _ not at all, don't be silly, what's your order? _

 

It's a large espresso, and thus Ravi is left manning the coffee machine, watches it working and the steam curling and looping in the air. 

 

By the time he's finished with the drink, he finds Liv and the detective talking quietly in one of the tables. The man looks a little wary of whatever she's saying, and Ravi wants to ask her to  _ please, don't sass the local law enforcement,  _ but he also looks less tense and tired, so instead Ravi sighs, grabs the leftover pastries and turns the kettle on for some tea before heading to their table and taking a seat. 

 

The next morning Detective Clive Babineaux stops by at 7:30 sharp, orders a double espresso and rolls his eyes at their bickering. 

 

He stops by again in the early evening, asks for a coffee, _ no cream, no sugar _ ,  _ thank you, _ and spends a few minutes complaining about his captain before heading out.

 

Ravi has a feeling he just got himself a new regular. 

 

.

.

.

 

The second big event caused by Liv suddenly invading his life is, Ravi is quite sure, meeting the love of his life.

 

Peyton Charles is quite possibly a goddess, and Ravi is a helpless moth being pulled in by her flame.

 

She first comes in on a Friday night, and Clive holds the door open for her before slipping out, so the bell doesn't chime to announce her presence. 

 

Which is totally why he jumps half out of his skin when she clears her throat. 

 

Then, she giggles, asks  _ is Liv here? _ and smiles, and Ravi is sure he is swooning.

 

He is not proud to admit his voice might have cracked as he told her  _ yes, she's out back, I'll call her,  _ and then hurried into the small kitchen.

 

That night he tells Liv to go ahead, it's fine, he can finish closing up on his own. But her friend is.  _ You know _ . Welcome to swing by. Anytime. If she wants.

 

Peyton does become a sort of regular after that, with irregular hours. She comes by as her job allows her, and if Ravi fumbles a little with the cups and the machine everytime, well, can you really blame him?

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

Then, enters the ex-fiancé.

 

Major Lilywhite comes in on a Thursday afternoon, and Liv isn't here.

 

It should be a problem, Ravi thinks, because come on, tall, handsome, athletic guy gets dumped, stalks his ex to her new workplace- it's not hard to do the math. 

 

He expects a lot of yelling, maybe a bit of a hissy fit. 

 

So yeah, he is thrown for a bit of a loop when Major leans on the counter, gives him a thousand watts smile,  _ hey, I hear you make a better coffee than the other barista?  _

 

He isn't expecting it, and the clashing between his expectations and this reality is jarring, that's why he gets the totally normal reaction of gaping like a fish.

 

It takes him a couple of seconds to snap out of his daze before he shakes his head, says  _ well, you're lucky she isn't here to hear you say that,  _ charges the bloke and begins making his ridiculous sugar monstrosity. 

 

And  _ man _ , this guy really isn't making it any easier for him here. 

 

Because here's the thing: Liv is his best friend. Ravi has a moral obligation to hate her ex. 

 

Even if this ex turns out to be surprisingly nice.

 

Not that Liv ever asked him to hate Major. Or told him why she called the engagement off, but you know. It's the principle of the thing that matters. 

Besides, Ravi doesn't really have that much friends to spare, so he's not about to screw this up. 

 

Still, as he listens to Major make small talk and sip at his drink, Ravi can't help wondering why would she give this up at all.

 

.

.

.

 

Coming to America, it had been so bloody scary.

 

A whole new continent, an entire ocean away. 

 

England had been his home and he had been only a teenager on a plane on his way to a foreign place.

 

First, he had college. Med School. All that jazz. And that took most of his time, but it was fine, that's what he had come here for. 

 

Then, there had been the CDC.  _ Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.  _ And he had  _ loved  _ his job and he had been damn good at it.

 

Okay.  _ Fine.  _ He might have gotten a little carried away at that, but, well, it's better to be safe than sorry, right?

 

Anyway, first there had been the american dream, and then there was nothing.

 

It had been raining the day he was fired. 

 

It's raining now, and there's a lull in customers. Ravi wipes the counter half-heartedly and he watches the water sliding down the windows and the sea of umbrellas outside.

 

"What's with the long face?" Liv says, shattering his memories, takes the rag out of his hands and moves to clean the tables, "you're quiet today, that's weird."

 

He allows himself one more minute. Then, "nothing," a pause. "It's just. The day is calling for a little gloom, don't you think?"

 

She studies his face for a second, "what, I thought you'd be more used to this weather."

 

"Well, that's rather stereotyping," he says, "I, myself, am much fonder of sunshine, thank you very much."

 

"If you say so. I kind of like days like these," she sighs, "makes me feel like I'm in one of those french movies, you know?"

 

This time, Ravi laughs. 

 

"Shut up," Liv rolls her eyes, whips the cloth at him, stops, "hey, are you sure you're alright?"

 

He gives himself just one more second.

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Peachy. Now come along, Olivia Moore, I hid a few scones on the oven this morning."

 

She perks at that, quickly flipping the sign at the door to  _ closed  _ and following him to the small kitchen in the back.

 

They're on the third pastry, and there's crumbs all over the floor, someone is going to have to clean this mess later, when Ravi sips his hot chocolate, looks out the window, says quietly  _ do you miss it? _

 

He doesn't say  _ your old life  _ or  _ medicine  _ or  _ home. _

 

He doesn't have to, and Liv doesn't ask. Because she understands, some of it. 

 

There's a lot of baggage behind her too.

 

She smiles a little sad, takes her mug to the sink, pats his shoulder. She kisses his cheek and says,  _ yeah, I do _ before walking out to the front. 

 

Ravi  grabs the broom, thinks,  _ me too.  _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

_ of  late afternoons and early evenings conversations: _

 

"Hey there!"

 

"Peyton, hi! Sorry- you  _ just  _ missed Liv, she said she was going to a parachute practice?"

 

_ "Oh,  _ no, it's fine, I know, she invited me too, but I am not touching that with a ten-foot pole, thank you. So, I'm here just for the caffeine."

 

"Alright then, what can I do for you in this fine evening?"

 

"An espresso, please. Make it double. And can I have lots of sugar?"

 

"Sure, coming right up. Here you go, cheers."

 

"Oh, thank you, but the muffin- I didn't-"

 

"No, no, it's on the house. New recipe, so really, you're doing  _ me _ a favour."

 

"Well, in that case, I'm honoured."

 

"It's fine, now, rough day at work?"

 

"Oh my  _ god _ , you have  _ no _ idea- "

 

.

.

.

 

The thing about Liv is that she seems to be on a quest to find herself.

 

Or something like that.

 

Maybe that's what brought her here, but whatever that means, it leads to her trying out different  _ styles  _ every other week.

 

Which, in return, leads to a wide range of incidents. Sometimes, Ravi even says it with a capital  _ i  _ in his head.

 

And it's not bad or anything, he's all for her getting in touch with her  _ chi  _ or her true self, he really is. 

 

See, exhibit A: when she decided to go all artsy, he let her hang her paintings on the walls and doodle on the cups and even listened as she went on tangents about love and life and beauty. He even rented  _ Moulin Rouge  _ for movie night.

 

Exhibit B: and then when she got into kung fu, Ravi let her come in an hour later everyday and move the tables around to match the  _ feng shui.  _ And, in one terrible, terrible morning, he let himself be convinced to wake up at some ungodly hour and go do  _ tai chi  _ in the park.

 

So, really, he is an  _ awesome _ friend who supports Liv and her absolutely  _ insane _ projects.

 

But he really is drawing the line here at playing  _ Justin Bieber  _ in the speakers.

 

"But come  _ on _ , his new songs are actually pretty cool," Liv whines.  _ Whines _ , for Christ's sake, "and everyone's gonna think this place is cool too."

 

"No,  _ no. _ Absolutely not," he shakes his head, "just because you're all hip with the kids doesn't mean you're going to drag me along."

 

She huffs, "You're  _ boring," _ scowls, "and  _ old. _ "

 

He opens his mouth to reply, but a young girl walks in, looking kinda lost and hungry, and Ravi settles for an eye roll before hurrying to greet his costumer. 

 

Then, the argument is forgotten and soft blues goes on crooning in the speakers, occasionally interrupted by loud old Britney Spears songs and the always present Beatles. 

 

Anywho, the weird look the girl gives him should've been the first clue.

 

The giggles from the teenagers half an hour later should've been the red alert.

 

But no, of course not.

 

It's Major, when he comes in a couple of hours later, who points it out.

 

"Okay, I really have to ask," he starts, struggling to keep a straight face, "is this a new trend I should know of?"

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"You know, the glitter and make up combo?" Major raises his eyebrows, then dissolves in laughter, "sorry, sorry, here- look."

 

He raises his phone and snaps a picture before Ravi can begin to process all the words in that conversation, mind still looping around  _ glitter  _ and  _ makeup _ .

 

Then, it slides into place, because the photo clearly shows a bewildered version of himself, face covered in colorful makeup and glitter all over his beard and hair.

 

"Well, I'm very sorry, but if you excuse me for a moment, I've got to find my employee who seems to have regressed into a fourteen years old." Ravi places the hot chocolate on the counter forcefully, sliding it forward to Major and then goes for the kitchen, " _ Liv- _ I swear to  _ God- " _

 

Ravi is really drawing the line here.

 

.

.

.

 

_ Here comes the sun _ , he thinks, singing along in his head,  _ little darling. _

 

And The Beatles are right, it is, indeed a sunny day in the fair city of Seattle; a rare sight these days and Ravi is determined to enjoy it fully.

 

The coffeeshop is not crowded, it never is, not really, but there's clutters of people occupying a few tables, teenagers mostly. Well. Nerds, mostly, flocking together attracted by the name. 

 

_ A New Hope. _

 

He is quite proud of his choice, although  _ Millenium Falcon  _ had been tempting at the time.  _ The Latte Strikes Back  _ and  _ The Last of the Chai  _ had all also been seriously considered.

 

But  _ A New Hope _ had stuck with him, and thus his first business had started. And it's going pretty swell, most days the books avoid the red and, in the lucky days, Ravi offers a quite decent competition to the Starbucks two blocks down the 7-11.

 

_ Here comes the sun,  _ the speakers sing softly,  _ and I say it's alright _ .

 

Today seems to be leading up to one of those good days, he thinks,  _ hopes. _ It's sunnier than it's been for weeks, and there's something about the warmth of sunshine hitting his face in the morning that just lifts his mood.

 

There is also the fact that today is May the Fourth, or, as he and thousands of other fellow enthusiasts like to call it, Star Wars Day.

 

Which brings him to the present, where Liv is still giving him a very confusing, yet surprisingly effective pep talk. 

 

Ravi knows he should probably listen to her, she  _ is  _ Peyton's best friend. And they  _ do  _ share an apartment. 

 

But asking Peyton Charles out is taking too big of a leap, he is no good with the whole blind faith thing.

 

He had been thinking about it for some time now, since they met if he's being honest. But summoning the courage to actually pick up the phone and call her to ask her out, it has been proving to be a challenge.

 

And that's where Liv had swooped in, talking about valor and gut feelings and taking chances. She also seems to be on Basketball Coach week, if the amount of sports metaphors are anything to go by.

 

_ Here comes the sun, little darling. _

 

Well, it's been a good day so far and it's sunnier than it's been in a while, so maybe,  _ maybe _ -

 

He calls her.

 

_ It's been a long, cold, lonely winter, little darling. _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

Ravi is calling bullshit.

 

There is no way,  _ no way _ , for Liv and Major to have called off the engagement and still be up and about like the bestest of friends.

 

_ Come on.  _

 

The bloke comes in every other day, buys the most sugar coated drink he can think of on the spot and just lingers around? In his ex-fiancé new job? Half the time when she's still there? Nope. Not possible.

 

And he remembers the first couple of months when Liv started working there. Ravi distinctly remembers the first time Major had walked in during her shift, he remembers quite well Liv squeaking and ducking under the counter to hide. It had been painfully awkward and weird and just sad.

 

_ Sure,  _ it had gotten better with time, eight months is a long time but  _ this  _ is a bit too much to believe.

 

Liv and Major, drinking a soy latte and white chocolate mocha with whipped cream and extra syrup, huddled together in a table in the corner, are  _ not  _ fooling anyone here.

 

They are  _ so _ back together.

 

But  _ shame on you, Olivia Moore _ , he glares, how dare she not tell Ravi this most exciting news? They could all be in a double date right now!  _ Shame on them, shame. _

 

He snaps a picture, gags a little on the disgustingly cuteness of their love, and sends it to Peyton with a  _ guess what. _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

It's amidst all the honeymoon bliss that Blaine deBeers appears to ruin their lucky phase.

 

He walks in one day, and Ravi sees Liv's eyes widening in surprising, then anger. In the couple of seconds that takes him to cross the shop, she is seething.

 

_ Hello,  _ says Blaine.

 

_ Fuck you _ , Liv replies. And then slaps him six days into Sunday.

 

Violence is not usually tolerated or encouraged in his establishment, but Ravi is more than willing to make an exception for this, because here is the guy who harassed Liv in the boat party and then pushed her into the water to save his own skin when all hell broke loose. She could've gotten killed or seriously hurt. So really, a slap in the face is  _ nothing. _

 

Blaine doesn't look too miffed by it, and Ravi wants to punch the smirk off his face, but the douchebag has already begun talking and by then he is too shocked processing the information to do much of anything.

 

Because  _ what the hell. _

 

Blaine deBeers is opening a bakery across the street. A  _ bakery. Blaine.  _ Across the street.

 

And he says it like it's perfectly reasonable and not at all baffling. Even adds that it's totally legal, his dad bought the building in an effort to straighten him up, the idiot. 

 

He's opening it in two weeks and tells them they're invited to the big inauguration party, but only if they bring good alcohol. 

 

Blaine walks off smirking and throwing a  _ good to meet you, neighbours  _ after Ravi politely assured him that  _ no, they will not be attending any of his parties in the foreseeable future  _ and that he is to  _ never come in here again. _

 

Liv huffs and glowers and pointedly begins cleaning the tables. Yeah, he doubts Blaine will listen too.

 

.

.

.

 

"Day 26, the enemy hasn't shown signs yet of his evil purposes. Movement inside the headquarters are slow but steady. It seems to intensify from 0800 to 0900 hours and 1800 to 1900 hours. Not sure what-  _ bloody hell!" _

 

"Hey man, what are you doing?" 

 

Major is beaming down at him and looking earnest and open and Ravi doesn't have the heart to scowl back for scaring him half to death.

 

"What? Oh, I'm doing recon, you know?" 

 

"Right, yes, as one always does, sure."

 

He crouches beside Ravi, hiding in the bushes and squinting his eyes to see beyond the leaves and into the  _ Dawn of the Bread.  _

 

"Don't you judge me, I'm doing this for the greater good. Blaine is a person of interest and he is up to something, I know it - nay, I can  _ feel  _ it." He shifts the branches so he can have a clearer field of vision, "and look all that smoke coming out, I bet he's down on his secret basement right now,  _ plotting." _

 

"Or, he is baking. Because he owns a  _ bakery _ ."

 

"Nonsense, Mr. Fancy Pants wouldn't get his hands dirty. No, he's  _ plotting." _

 

"Liv put you up to this, didn't she?"

 

A minute of silence. 

 

And then. "Liv put me up to this, yeah, she can be very persuasive."

 

"Tell me about it, buddy. She used the puppy eyes or the threatens of bodily harm?"

 

" _ Both." _

 

There is a moment of shared sympathy where they both shudder.

 

"Damn, she brought the big guns, uh?" Major smiles again, open and good humoured and friendly, and shuffles a little, "well then, I guess I can't leave you scouting enemy territory alone, now can I?"

 

Ravi laughs quietly, "that would be rather poor planning, strategically speaking, yes, and I also appreciate the company, thank you."

 

The silence doesn't stretch for long, Major breaks it with his chuckles and  _ giggles _ , "so, you can  _ feel  _ it?"

 

"Oh, shut it, you. I happen to believe in the cause, alright."

 

"Sure thing. So hey, if you are here outside, who's taking care of the coffee shop?"

 

"Liv is my second in command, she's in charge."

 

" _ Dude." _

 

.

.

.

 

Under the artificial light Peyton Charles looks beautiful, divine, holy.

 

She is a poem written in laughter and light and fire and beauty and kindness.

 

But tonight there are lines in her forehead that spell out tragedy and the drumming of her fingers in the kitchen table follows the beat of an eulogy.

 

_ We need to talk _ , she said earlier.

 

_ There is a job,  _ she said earlier.

 

_ It's an unique opportunity,  _ she said earlier.

 

_ It's in Europe,  _ she said earlier.

 

_ I haven't decided yet,  _ she said earlier.

 

_ We'll talk later,  _ she said earlier.

 

But Ravi knows the way this song plays.

 

She said  _ maybe _ , but he heard  _ I'm sorry. _

 

_ Don't ask me to stay _ , her eyes had pleaded.

 

_ Goodbye,  _ she had meant.

 

Now, there are tears in her eyes and she says  _ I could've loved you. _

 

_ I know _ , he replies.

 

_ Goodbye,  _ his heart breaks.

 

.

.

.

 

In the months that follow both Ravi and Liv mope and sulk and sigh.

 

Even Clive asks if everything is alright and Major takes to come around more often, cajoling conversations out of them.

 

But as time goes by, scar tissue starts to grow and mend all wounds, and thinking of Peyton doesn't leave him aching and bloodied inside.

 

Instead, it's the bittersweet taste of good moments that become history.

 

_ I could've loved you. _

 

There is peace in that.

 

.

.

.

 

Ravi had thought Blaine had been the final boss.

 

How wrong he had been.

 

Blaine isn't even the enemy. He isn't a friend, and he is definitely shady, but he isn't the real enemy.

 

He is at best the bad omen.

 

Vaughn du Clark is the real Enemy.

 

Honestly, he's never going to say it out loud, but having an archenemy is pretty cool. You know. In a bad way. But still kind of cool.

 

Anyway, the man appears one day, throwing the doors open like he owns the place, all sunglasses and obnoxious smirk.

 

He doesn’t even say good morning, just leans in the counter, looks around and asks  _ how much? _

 

It gets Liv’s attention, Ravi can see the way her eyebrows rise together and her back stiffs; she sees trouble gathering in the air around this man. 

 

A thunder claps in the distance; so much for bad omens.

 

_ For what?  _ He asks, feigning ignorance but feeling cold foreboding thrumming underneath his skin. 

 

_ Why, this establishment, of course!  _ The man replies cheery, grin turning sharp and dangerous and predatory,  _ I’m Vaughn du Clark, and I will be buying your shop. _

 

_ It’s not on sale,  _ Ravi says,  _ and it won’t be anytime soon. _

Vaughn du Clark laughs, puts on his sunglasses,  _ we’ll see about that, my friend, _ takes another look around the shop, lips curling in another smirk,  _ for now, au revoir, Ravi Chakrabarti and Olivia Moore. _

 

He goes away, but he leaves his shadow, looming over their heads and weighing down on their minds. 

 

.

.

.

 

It seems a chain of events had been set off, like dominoes falling one after the other, but Ravi couldn’t seem to figure out the final picture. 

 

This time the dominoes bring Liv and Major breaking up again. But for real this time,  _ they swear. _

 

And Ravi believes it when  Liv says it, because she isn’t crying and she isn’t heartbroken. There’s still light shining in her eyes and fire in her heart. 

 

It’s sad, but it’s the kind of sadness that washes over you like snow in the end of winter, soft and cold and painful, but melting away as soon as the sun peaks in the sky. 

 

It’s not the kind of sadness that engulfs you and threatens to drown you with acid.

 

It’s mild and quiet and not at all like the first time, she assures him. 

 

_ We tried making it work,  _ Liv tells him one day, over a cup of Irish coffee,  _ but it just wasn’t us anymore.  _

 

He isn’t sure what to say to that, so Ravi stays silent, pouring himself a little more whiskey.

 

_ Too much changed,  _ she says,  _ and not enough. _

 

And Major isn’t crying any rivers either, although his eyes do look more dull and his smiles tend to look less like the sun coming from behind clouds. 

 

And thankfully he doesn’t stop coming to the coffeeshop either, although he avoids Liv’s shifts. He still comes in and orders his sugared drinks and stays to talk, sometimes even tying an apron and helping around.

 

These are the times Ravi likes best, because it means Major is going to spend his afternoon there and Ravi won’t be left alone for the rest of the day. It’s always fun and it always ends with beans being thrown around with cries of war.

 

_ I thought I was going to marry her,  _ Major says one day, apron tied sloppily behind his back,  _ I really did. _

 

But Ravi doesn’t know what to say to that either, he thinks of Peyton in his kitchen and tears in her eyes, but this isn’t the same thing at all, so he pushes a hot chocolate in his direction and stays silent.

 

_ But I guess things don’t always go as planned,  _ the guy continues,  _ and maybe that’s okay. _

 

Ravi claps him in the back, yeah, they’re going to be okay.

.

.

.

 

**_The Seattle Herald, 31th of January of 2017;_ **

 

###  **_Millionaire hunting down small business in the suburbs._ **

**By George Wickham.**

 

“In the morning of the 28th of this month, millionaire and notorious playboy Vaughn du Clark was seen walking around the suburbs of Seattle. Closely followed by his lawyers and security detail, du Clark visited the small business located in the block between Cherry  street and  Fifth Avenue  all morning. When reached for comment by our staff, he refused to give any clue of his reasons to leave his penthouse and dive in the considerably poorer neighbourhood.

 

Nevertheless, Vaughn du Clark is still the CEO of the biggest company on his field and as such, the rumors about his next moves are all over the streets. The current consensus is that Max Rager is about to launch a new and revolutionary energy drink, but there’s more. Reliable sources affirm that the company is planning in opening their own stores all around the city, especially in areas where their products are still scarcely known.

 

Adding to that, Mr. du Clark has been paying visits to several State Realtor Agents and the sudden epidemic of small business closing around neighbourhoods like  the suburbs and  West Seattle , and there isn’t much mystery to be solved at all, save for, perhaps, the moral dilemma brought up by these actions.”

 

_ Read more in pag. 5.  _

 

.

.

.

 

**_Hi, you’ve reached my voicemail, so I’m probably very busy right now, but I’ll call back later. Probably- [glass breaking, fire alarm going off ] oh shit, Liv, don’t-_ **

 

**_[Major; 23:28, 03/01/2017.]_ ** _ “Hi, Ravi, it’s Major, you were right. Oh man, you were so right, there’s something wrong with this bakery. I’m outside behind the dumpster, and there’s some seriously shady people inside, I think one of them is a dealer but I can’t see. Wait, I’ll try to get closer.” _

 

**_[Major; 00:17, 03/02/2017.]_ ** _ “[Whispered] Hey, it’s me again, I’m outside the left window. Ravi, there are so many drugs in there, I think they’re the ones dealing Utopium for the kids in the shelter. Shit, they’re leaving, I gotta-” _

 

**_[Major; 00:43, 03/02/2017.]_ ** _ “[Whispered] Okay, they’re gone now, I think I’m going in. Yeah. I can do this. It’s not a big deal. Don’t freak out when you listen to these messages okay? I’ll be fine. [pause]. But you know, if I, uh, disappear, well, this would be a good place to start looking? I don’t know, listen, I’m going in. Bye. And hey, Ravi, before you start worrying, it’s gonna be fine, okay, buddy? See you later.” _

 

**_[2:30, 03/02/2017.  8 missed calls from_ ** **Major** **_]_ **

 

**_[ 2:33, 03/02/2017. 3 missed calls from_ ** **Unknown Number** **_]_ **

 

**_[Unknown number; 2:34, 03/02/2017.]_ ** _ “Hey, Ravi. You’re not picking up. It would be nice if you did. It’s Major, by the way. I need a favor? Could you- when you wake up, i mean, could you come pick me up? I’m at the, uh, police station? Yeah, the 34th precinct. I got busted at the bakery, so if you could come and get me? Thank you and see you soon. Hopefully. Yeah, bye.” _

 

**_[Clive; 4:06, 03/02/2017.]_ ** _ “It’s Detective Babineaux- it’s Clive, I’m driving Major home. I don’t know what drama you guys have going with the bakery across the street- and I don’t want to know- just keep him away  from there. Get a leash, I don’t care. I can’t bail him out again, he’s got record now.” _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

_ “You broke into the bakery?!” _

 

An angry Liv is a force of nature. A hurricane. No one wants to cross her when she is on a warpath.

 

And right now Ravi is regretting his decision of getting between her and Major. He is so not cut out to be a human shield.

 

“I was trying to help!” Major says, “I needed to know-”

 

“They are  _ dangerous!”  _ Liv pinches the bridge of her nose, “you could’ve gotten yourself  _ killed, _ and then what, how would that help the shelter, hm?”

 

“I know but Liv-”

 

“Were you  _ trying  _ to get yourself killed? Because that was the worst plan-”

 

“What?! No-”

 

“-ever, what were you even thinking-”

 

“-how was I supposed to know they would come back-”

 

“-if Clive hadn’t seen you being brought in-”

 

“ _ That’s it!”  _ Ravi gets once again between the pair, hands raised placatingly, “you’re scaring the customers. Liv, why don’t you take your break?”

 

She glares at her ex-fiancé a last time, but unties her apron and leaves it in the counter before walking out and slamming the back door shut.  

 

“Thanks, man. I-”

 

“No, Major. You know Liv is right.” Ravi frowns, “I thought you knew better, that was incredibly stupid of you. You went in a  _ drug ring _ .  _ Alone.  _ Do you see how that could’ve gone terribly wrong?”

 

“I- yeah. I know. It’s just, Ravi, I had to know, I thought maybe if I could’ve gotten some proof-”

 

“ _ Are you even listening to yourself?”  _ He says, frustration building and clashing with worry, “ and did you even think how it was for me to wake up to your voicemails? Do you know how worried I was they would be calling for the morgue next?”

 

It had been hell. Ravi had woken up to find the serie of increasingly worrying voicemails, and his mind had immediately jumped for the worst. He had listened to each one waiting for the worst. His chest had tightened, anxiety squeezing at his lungs and fear clawing at his ribcage. 

 

“I didn’t-” Major stammers, thrown off and lost, “I didn’t stop to think. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone- I just-”

 

“Wanted to help, I know. We all know.” Ravi sighs, slumping his shoulders, “but we care for you, Major. What if something happened to you? All of that- the bakery, Blaine, the drugs- it’s not worth you getting hurt. We’ll deal with them later, but we do it right. No unnecessary risks, okay?”

 

Major nods silently, deflates. He looks tired and rumpled and shaken, and Ravi softens, anger and worry and fear melting and being replaced by a warmer, familiar feeling. He unties his apron as well, scribbles a note for Liv and grabs his car keys, “Come on, let’s get you home, you need some sleep.”

 

.

.

.

 

Ravi gets a month of relative peace before another relatively important change happens around his life.

 

It comes in the form of a british, slightly arrogant musician, who walks in one morning lured by the promise of authentic English tea. He has a guitar strapped to his back and a roguish grin on his lips, and his delight of finding another London accent in the middle of Seattle lights up the whole shop. 

 

When Liv hands him his tea and croissant, his smile is bright enough to light up the city itself.

 

Lowell Tracey wears his heart on his sleeve, and he has no problem in letting everyone know his infatuation and he’s determined in convincing Liv to give him a chance. He takes to come in every morning after that, guitar ever present on his back, and ask for his tea, grinning confidently and trying his luck.

 

And the thing is, Ravi isn’t even sure why Liv turns the poor bloke down. A little voice inside his head tells him it might be because she still harbors feeling for Major,  but he tries to ignore it, and the sting of guilt that it brings, for the most part.

 

He manages to hold himself back for another two weeks, when he finally blurts  _ why?  _

 

Liv stays silent for a second, then falters, mulling over his question,  _ because I’m afraid, _ she tells him at last,  _ because he isn’t afraid, so I have to be. _

 

Ravi thinks of Lowell Tracey, reckless and young and unafraid, and of Liv, wary and jaded and hesitant, and says  _ be brave, then. Take the leap. _

 

She blinks,  _ I’m trying, _ pauses,  _ what if it crashes and burns? _

 

_ Then you fall, _ he places a cup of hot coffee in her hands,  _ but we catch you on the way down. _

 

It takes her another week to give in and write her number underneath his cup, a heart dotting the  _ i. _

 

The developing relationship brings the musician more often into the coffee shop, and Lowell gets used to hanging around until Liv’s shift is over. He tells them he has a record deal with a local production, he flew all the way from London for this, but sometimes he spends his afternoon playing in the park. The pigeons have been his best crowd yet.

 

It’s also in one of those visits that he suggests an Open Mic Night, maybe on a Friday or Saturday, and Ravi finds himself considering the idea. It could be fun, he would have a guaranteed professional singer and if worst came to worst, he could probably convince Liv to sing something. 

 

The next week the flyers are all over the walls and Lowell gives him a smug smile but assures him he’ll be there.

 

Open Mic Friday goes surprisingly well, with a good number of participants, and some pretty decent music, even Liv gives in and sings a duet with her boyfriend, all soft smiles and cheesy lyrics. It would be cute if it wasn’t so disgustingly sweet. And even that goes remarkably smooth, Major shakes their hands and wish them luck, looking sincere and genuine and earnest, before taking the stool by the counter and starting a whispered conversation with Ravi.

 

All in all, it’s a good night, and Ravi closes up later than usual, happier than usual,  _ such a lovely place, _ he hums quietly,  _ such a lovely face. _

 

.

.

.

 

**[Major, 6:43]** _ “hey.” _

 

**[Ravi, 6:43]** _ “whats up?” _

 

**[Major, 6:44]** _ “got beer and pizza” _

 

**[Major, 6:44]** _ “wanna come over and play Halo?” _

 

**[Ravi, 6:52]** _ “be there at 8” _

 

**[Ravi, 6:53]** _ “arfvader will kick your ass” _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

After more than a year in Europe, Peyton Charles walks in his life, scarf around her neck and wistful smile on her lips.

 

She’s still as beautiful as the day he left her at the airport.

 

Liv flings herself at her friend, and they cling to each other, lost in their own world, whispering a conversation meant only for themselves to hear.  When they pull apart, their smile outshines the sun outside. 

The next to greet her is Major, who had been there sipping his large dark chocolate with whipped cream and double syrup and chatting idly, and he hugs her with laughter and his thousand watts grin. He tells her France suited her and Spain must be weeping after losing her.

 

Then, there is no delaying anymore and Peyton is looking at him with a shy smile and hopeful eyes, and Ravi gathers her in his arms because he’s missed her so much. It makes his heart flip and ache all over again, beating against his ribcage, saying over and over-  _ maybe maybe maybe- _

 

They all agree to dinner at Peyton’s new place tomorrow night.

 

And it should be weird, with Major and Liv and Ravi and Peyton, too much history and too much baggage, but maybe they all know each other too well, seen too much and been through too much, to let it be awkward. They had been friends before being anything else.

 

So it’s not awkward and it’s not weird, but soon Liv is bidding goodbye, saying she needs to meet Lowell and giving Ravi a meaningful look. 

 

And then Major is picking up his coat from the couch and commenting on how late it is. He kisses Peyton on the cheek and when she turns her back, gives Ravi a thumbs up and an encouraging smile. There’s something about his eyes that bothers him, though.

 

And then there were two.

 

They sit in the couch, talking about Europe so not to talk about themselves, until the conversation trails off and silence settles around. There’s a lot he wants to say but he isn’t sure how to start. He wants to say  _ I missed this _ , so instead he tells her  _ you look well. _

 

She gives him a wistful smile,  _ you’re not too bad yourself, _ and maybe they should've slowed down on the wine earlier, but then she is kissing him and he tries not to think of anything else.

 

Except. It’s not the same.

 

There isn’t fireworks or butterflies, and his heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to burst anymore. And when they pull apart, Peyton is still a goddess, beautiful and smart and funny and way out of his league, and he thinks he should want this more.

 

He hasn’t been sure of what he wants for some time now.

 

Ravi thinks of Liv saying _but it just wasn’t us anymore_ and _too much changed_ and he thinks of Major telling him _things don’t always go as planned,_ _and maybe that’s okay_. And he looks at Peyton now, sitting in front of him with understanding eyes and knowing smile.

 

_ I could’ve loved you. _

 

In another life, perhaps.

 

.

.

.

 

He figures out what bothered him.

 

Sadness.

 

Major looked sad.

 

.

.

.

 

_ [City Hall, conference room. Journalists fill the place, cameras flash uninterrupted as District Attorney Baracus gives his official statement. ] _

 

**Baracus:** We will destroy your criminal enterprise. That is my pledge to this city and to all of its citizens. We will not stand for this barbarie, we are coming after you. 

 

_ [ Applauses from the audience, more cameras flashing.] _

 

**Baracus:** A citywide crackdown on the Utopium scourge. To this end, we have formed a Utopium task force, headed by a colleague I am pleased to welcome back from sabbatical, assistant DA Peyton Charles. Peyton?

 

_ [ More applauses. Baracus steps aside as a young woman takes his place. She smiles to the cameras and takes a deep breath before speaking.] _

 

**Peyton:** Thank you, District Attorney Baracus, for the confidence you've placed in me. I promise I will not let you down.  _ [ Applauses]  _ And for anyone on the Utopium trade, I’m here to tell you, party’s over. We will not rest until our work is done. We are bringing this empire down, this city belongs to its citizens and we are returning it safely to them.  _ [Applauses, cameras flashing]  _  Thank you, we will be taking questions now. Yes?

 

_ [The audience applauses and the journalists fight over themselves to speak. The District Attorney returns to the stage and stands beside the young woman, listening patiently for the first question. Cameras flash.] _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

“Crazy, uh?” Major says, “Peyton running the DA’s man hunt on Boss.”

 

Ravi snorts, he hasn’t been very subtle in his trying to find out what happened at Peyton’s. “Indeed. Although the most surprising is the investigation itself, I didn’t think the office had the balls for that.”

 

“Well, rumor has it, someone is pressuring the DA,” he sips his sweet tea, “but don’t tell her that. I like my face as it is. So… she’s back in town. How’s that going for you?”

 

“Good, I missed having her around,” Ravi determinedly doesn’t look up, only keeps fixing the coffee machine, “she’s a good friend, even if she keeps tricking me into drinking games which I will inevitably lose.”

 

“Oh.  _ Oh.  _ So you two aren’t, you know, back together?”

 

“No, that ship, my friend, has already sailed a long time ago.” 

 

“Right. I’m sorry, Liv had told me but I didn’t really believe- I saw you two coming in the other day and-”

“Yeah, no, that had been Peyton drinking me under the table spectacularly the night before and then dragging my sorry ass to work. I’ve got a bloody hangover all day.” Ravi snorts again, “word of advice, never let her bring the whiskey.  _ Never. _ ”

 

Major laughs and it’s warm and loud and familiar and Ravi thinks this is what Heaven sounds like. It had been a while since he had heard it, and he’s glad whatever cloud had been over the man’s head has blown over. Major should always smile like this, otherwise the world is just dull.

 

“Trust me, been there, done that.” There’s a flicker of indecision in his eyes, but it passes quickly, replaced by a hopeful, earnest expression, “so, the new Call of Duty arrived today, wanna come over and have your ass handed to you? I can even cook dinner in celebration of my sure victory.”

 

Ravi glances up, hands stilling over the machine. Major is looking up at him expectantly, and suddenly it feels a lot more important than video games. It feels like he’s being asked a lot more and it feels like one of those fork in the woods.

 

He watches as Major bites his lower lip, face falling at his silence and an apology spilling from behind his teeth, and it feels like no question at all.

 

“In that case, I’ll have to bring the wine, maybe if I get you tipsy, I’ll have an actual chance of winning.”

 

The smile he receives in response is victory enough.

 

.

.

.

 

“You need to get out more.” Liv says one day out of the blue, “you know, date and stuff.”

 

Ravi shrugs, “it’s not like I have been hiding from the world,” he thinks of dinner a couple of nights ago, “besides, the shop keeps me pretty busy most days.”

 

“That’s lame.” She tells him around a mouthful of noodles, “and that sounds like an excuse. Are you still hung up on Peyton?”

 

“No,” he shoots her a dirty look, “are you still hung up on Lowell?”

 

“Hey, that’s a low blow,” she frowns, “it’s been only a week since he moved back to London.”

 

“Sorry,” he says, “it seems we are losing all our friends for Europe.”

 

“Well, at least Peyton’s home now.” Liv stops suddenly, glaring, “quit changing the subject. The point is, man, you need to get out more, your moping around isn’t as amusing anymore, it's just sad.”

 

“Eat your noodles, you’re mean when you’re hungry.” 

 

“No, come on, I’m serious, isn’t there anyone? Hm? Some cute girl?” She hops up the counter, sitting and dangling her legs, “no? Fine, some cute boy? Oooh, is that a blush I see? So there  _ is a cute boy,  _ come  _ on _ , spill the beans, Ravi!”

 

“There’s nothing to tell, Liv, really.”  _ Cooking together, laughing over dinner, bottles of sweet red wine, warm smiles and bright eyes, the touch of an arm over a shoulder, sitting close- too close, not close enough- more laughter, wild butterflies flying in more wine, casual touching and lingering gazes, and a heart beating maybe maybe maybe maybe.  _ “I don’t think it’s going anywhere, I’m not sure he's interested.”

 

“I’m sorry,” it’s not pity colouring her voice, but it’s close enough to make his skin crawl, “some things just aren’t meant to be, and if this guy doesn’t like you, pfff, then he’s clearly a dumbass, so really, he’s the loser here.”

 

“Thanks, Liv.” Ravi laughs nervously, there is no point in telling her he’s crushing on her ex-fiancé now. Really. It’s pointless. It’s not like anything is going to happen; he had wondered before,  _ hoped _ , but it’s time to accept things as they are, so  _ really _ , there is no reason to stir trouble. “Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome, boss. And who knows, maybe you just need to pay a little more attention.”

 

.

.

.

 

“ -- and that’s just these past weeks and I don’t know why he’s being weird. Do you think it’s me? Oh dear god, do you think he figured out I have a crush on him? And the worst part is that I can’t tell Liv, he’s her ex-fiancé! I’m the worst best friend ever, I know, but I can’t help it! Look at me now, butchering everything up with my two best friends. I’m going to die alone and in disgrace, I can see it. I just wish thing would go back to normal, you know? Things were so much easier back at the CDC, who knew uh? I miss it sometimes. Anyway, thanks for listening, Clive, you’re a great friend and i appreciate it.”

 

“I just wanted coffee- nevermind.” The detective blinks a few times, put upon and a little bewildered from Ravi’s rant, pauses, looks up incredulous, “you really don’t see it? How can you not- no, nope. Not my problem, keep on sulking.”

 

Ravi sighs and watches him go. Above the door the bell chimes. He sighs again, definitely not sulking.

 

.

.

.

 

Vaughn du Clark comes back one day, grinning like the cat who got the cream, and Ravi knows the end is nigh.

 

The playboy approaches the counter, smiles like a snake coiling for the bite, “I am going to buy your little shop, and it’s gonna be cheap.”

 

“Oh, is that so?”

 

“Yes, it is, and you know why?”

 

“Because you’re delusional?”

 

“No, it’s because I, my friend, have got you all figured out. Doctor Ravi Chakrabarti, 32 years old, originated from London, UK and formerly employed by the  _ Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, _ Seattle branch.”

 

“Congratulations, you read my file. Still not selling.”

 

“Now, let’s not be hasty here. Come on, God save the Queen, right? I’ll tell you what, you sell me this fine establishment of yours for a fair price,” du Clark says, leaning in with a smirk, “and I’ll get you something you want.”

 

“There is nothing you could offer me that would make me change my mind,” Ravi sighs, the sense of unease permeating the air, “so if you’ll excuse me-”

 

“I’ll get you your job back.”

 

That gives him pause. 

 

“What?” Beside him he sees Liv drop the cup she had been holding. “I- what?”

 

“Yup. Not just your job here, in some lowly facility. No. I’m talking big, I’m talking Atlanta with the big boys.”

 

“Atlanta? As in the  _ headquarters  _ Atlanta? Atlanta, Georgia?”

 

“Think about it, I’ll be back tomorrow morning for your answer. And to sign the papers.”

 

Ravi nods absently, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea.  _ Atlanta.  _

 

_ Maybe- _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

_ You can’t do it,  _ Liv pleads,  _ you can’t sell it. _

 

Ravi would like to say he isn’t considering it, he would like to assure her that’s not going to happen, ever. 

 

But.

 

Going back? Having his life back? A job in his field of study? The job he had always wanted? Things had been good, things had been so good.

 

And getting it all back?  _ His life back? _

 

He’d like to say there is no temptation in that but-

 

Maybe-

 

_ You can’t do it,  _ and then,  _ please don’t do it. _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

_ I’ll kick your ass,  _ Peyton threatens,  _ if you do it, I’ll kick your ass. _

 

She stands in front of the counter, narrowed eyes and worrying lines, and Liv nods along from the other side of the room.

 

_ Peyton,  _ he starts.

 

_ No,  _ she shakes her head,  _ if you go, so help me, I will kick you. _

 

Ravi laughs, and he believes her, because that’s Peyton and she doesn’t make empty promises.

 

_ Please don’t sell it,  _ she continues,  _ we’d miss you too much. _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

_ I hate Starbucks,  _ Clive announces after getting his coffee and Ravi blinks confused until the detective rolls his eyes and elaborates further,  _ there isn’t any other coffeeshops near the precinct. _

 

It still doesn’t make much sense, but there’s a faint light of understanding, and Ravi grins,  _ is that so? _

 

_ Yeah,  _ Clive says gruffly,  _ so I’d appreciate if you didn’t screw this up. _

 

_ Awww,  _ Ravi coos,  _ I didn’t know you cared! _

 

_ I just need my coffee, alright?  _ The detective rolls his eyes again, muttering under his breath,  _ I’ll arrest you if you make me go into the Starbucks. _

 

Ravi grins widely, calls after the man,  _ awww, I’d miss you too, detective! _

 

_. _

_. _

_. _

 

He doesn’t get much sleep that night, tossing and turning on his bed, mind reeling with possibilities.

 

_ Maybe- _

 

He thinks of his time at the CDC. 

 

It had been raining when he was fired.

 

And he thinks of his life now, with the coffeeshop.  _ A New Hope. _

 

He thinks of Olivia Moore walking in for the first time, lost and unsure, and looking for a place to belong.

 

He thinks of Clive, gruff and patient and rolling his eyes fondly at their antics.

 

He thinks of Peyton and her drinking games and watching Vertigo for the hundredth time and the hole in his heart when she left.

 

And he thinks of Major, of playing video games and cooking pasta and easy conversations and cold beer and of worrying and longing and laughing and wondering.

 

He thinks of Open Mic Friday, remembers the way the fairy lights had lit up the place with an ethereal glow, like private Northern Lights, an Aurora Borealis just for them, and how the music had filled the room and warmed the air. He thinks of the familiar feeling blooming and curling around his ribcage, as he hummed along the melody, all of his friends smiling brightly around him.

 

There is no question at all.

 

.

.

.

 

It’s raining when he wakes up.

 

And it’s still raining as he turns off his car and fumbles with an umbrella.

 

The sky is falling down and there’s a figure sitting in front of his shop, and Ravi is not sure what to think because that’s Major soaking wet on his doorstep.

 

The man scrambles to his feet when he notices him approaching, blinking a few times as if he isn’t sure this is real.

 

“Major, what are you doing here?” Ravi steps under the marquise, closing his umbrella, “is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, no,” he runs a hand through his hair, “Liv told you’re selling this place-” 

 

“About that-”

 

“No, let me talk first, okay? I need to tell you now or I’ll never do.” Major says, asks,  _ pleads _ , and Ravi is helpless to say otherwise, “I know it’s selfish of me, because you told me how you miss your old job, you came all the way from London for that, and now you can have it all back, so it’s really selfish of me to ask you this, for you to give it all up again. But I have to, because Ravi, I- this place,  _ you _ , it’s what keeps us all together, you know? You’re the glue, man.”

 

“Major-”

 

“It’s not just that, I know I have been weird lately, but I was afraid. Liv says I should’ve told you this a long time ago, but I couldn’t risk losing you. You’re my best friend, man. So I backed off, because I was afraid if I saw you, I’d might tell you this, and- and what if you didn’t feel the same?”

 

“Are you saying what I think you’re sayi-”

 

“Yeah, and it might be selfish of me, but I don’t care, so I’m asking you, please don’t go, because I love you and I can’t bear the thought of losing you, and you don’t have to stay for me, really, I don’t expect anything, but stay because everyone else will miss you too. Also, everyone else sucks at Halo.  _ So please don’t sell this place and move to Atlanta?” _

 

Ravi stays silent, because Major is standing there, under the marquise of his shop, wet from the rain and looking desperate and raw and lost and  _ hopeful  _ and he’s baring his soul for Ravi, he’s giving him his heart willingly, fragile and vulnerable and real, and words are failing him in face of that.

 

So instead of speaking, Ravi pushes him against the glass doors and kisses him, hoping he’ll understand. His hands grip his hips tight, fingertips brushing warm skin, and Major pulls him closer,  _ closer,  _ trying to believe  _ this is real, this is real. _

 

They break apart and Ravi takes the opportunity to reassure him, “I wasn’t going to sell anything,” he presses a kiss to his neck, smiles, “but you did make a compelling argument there.”

 

Major blinks surprised, “you weren’t?”

 

“No, not really. I can’t say I didn’t think about it,” Ravi says, growing serious, “but I could never. This is where I belong, this is  _ home.” _

 

There is the thousand watts smile again, and then they are kissing again, slow and relieved and happy.

 

“Did you mean it?”

 

“Every word of it.”

 

“Good, otherwise this would be very awkward,” Ravi kisses him once more, because this is Major and he can’t quite believe it’s true yet, “and you see, I might be a little in love too.”

 

It’s raining when Liv finds them half an hour later, and she laughs and hugs them, saying  _ it was about damn time,  _ and Ravi wholeheartedly agree.

 

.

.

.

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean  _ no _ ?”

 

“I mean  _ no, I will not sell my coffee shop and if you keep bugging me about it, I’ll sue you for harassment.” _

 

_ “ _ You can’t do that!”

 

“Actually, yes, I can. So if you could  _ please  _ leave and never come back, that would be for the best.”

 

“This won’t- no one just-”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll regret this, you would’ve gotten away of it weren’t for these meddling kids, yadda, yadda. Now chop, chop, out you go.”

 

.

.

.

 

It’s Open Mic Friday again, and while Lowell isn’t here this time, the music is still good and the fairy lights are still bright with magic.

 

And beside him, Major is singing softly along the lyrics, head bobbing in time, so really, Ravi has nothing to complain about.

 

He’s not behind the counter right now, Liv had shooed him earlier when Major had finally come in, and Ravi watches as she flushes when a tall, buff guy approaches her.

 

If he pays attention, he can hear their voices faint above the melody.

 

The man introduces himself as Detective Drake Holloway, and he looks oddly familiar, but Ravi can’t quite pin why. Drake orders a latte, and he smiles at Liv surprisingly sweet, sitting in the stool across her as she asks about his scar.

 

They look lost in their own world after that, and Ravi guesses happy endings are in great demand lately.

 

Peyton comes in a while later, grinning wildly and freely and victorious. 

 

She tells them Stacey Boss was placed under arrest today and will be going to trial in the next few days, no chance of  _ Habeas Corpus. _ Her case is solid, she says, there is a witness willing to testify against Boss, and the prosecutor is going to have a field day. The witness is an ex-traficant, who, of all things, is now a baker. She can’t say more, but the guy is now under the Witness Protection Program, only to be released after the trial. 

 

Ravi doesn’t really want to believe that’s Blaine, but there’s been a  _ Closed  _ sign hanging the bakery’s door for a while now, so maybe there’s more to the story than they imagined.

 

Clive is the last to arrive, and for everyone’s surprise, he comes with his FBI girlfriend, who turns out to be funny and beautiful and smart, and Liv huffs, annoyed, and flicks the detective across the head because  _ why didn’t you bring her sooner? _

 

In the makeshift stage some kid is singing with his guitar, and across the small table Major catches his eyes and smiles,  _ beams,  _ and Ravi is at peace, he’s happy, he’s home, and he sings along contentedly,  _ cause after all, you’re my wonderwall. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yo,
> 
> I'm late so let's make this quick, leaving a comment is always nice and all, or you can come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://wearealltalesintheend.tumblr.com).
> 
> And hey? Thanks.


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